


A Downfall of Man

by Atma



Series: Downfall of Man [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Action, Alcohol, Author w/canon character, Bad 80's action movie violence, Belarus - Freeform, Cheesy One-Liners, Comedy, Communism, Drugs, F/F, Lesbians, Multi, Parody, Satire, Self-Insert, This thing has no excuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:45:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atma/pseuds/Atma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ymir and her military friend and ex, Atma, come home from a special ops mission to find they have been framed for the violent takeover of the nation of Belarus and now must go learn the truth behind the attack, clear their names, and bring peace between nations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a dream.
> 
> This basically has no excuse or reason to exist and started off as a joke that took six months off and on to write and became its own monstrous...thing that is both parody and isn't.
> 
> This thing is terrible but I am not sorry for a single word of it. Dedicated to my GF Koshka for wanting this story to be finished/exist.
> 
> Enjoy the insanity.
> 
> oh god this is the longest fic i've ever written why

The two rolled into a Los Angeles port, having just gotten back from a mission deep in Thailand to help out a small rebel cause. It was a tremendous success, and having finished ahead of schedule, they decided to hop on the first ship back home to enjoy some time off. They looked positively filthy and smelled worse, wandering around and stretching as their legs made contact with the ground once more. It was night, the sun just finishing setting, and the two hungered for the sweet, sweet taste of liquor and fried food.

“Mmm, home sweet home. I never thought the smell of the local smog would make me feel at home, but ah, here I am, taking it all in as if it was some filthy god's blessing.” said Ymir as she stretched her arms over her head. “What's say hit the nearest pub before heading up north?”

“Sounds like a plan.” said her companion, Atma, from nearby, twirling a tactical knife in her hand before holstering it. “I'm buying, though. It's only fair; you covered my brothel tab back overseas in a magnificent display of nervousness.”

“Hey, fuck you, I just didn't want anyone to think I was there to whore around like you do!” growled Ymir, flipping her companion off and seething.

“Oh shut the fuck up, Ymir. It was cute, how all you could do was take out your wallet and show them pics of Christa and go 'oh no I'm gonna get married soon I can't be touching you' as if polygamy was a communicable disease.” retorted Atma as she tightened her bandanna and got walking. “It's the least I can do to restore your honor as the most monogamous of us all.”

“What the fuck ever.” scoffed Ymir as she followed. “Port slut.”

“Frigid asshole.”

The two continued like this back and forth, sadistic grins across their face as they made their way to the shadiest possible dive. Nobody would question to special forces soldiers in a place like this, nor would they bother them. And if they tried, they were more then capable of tossing them out on their asses, one handed, beer clasped in the other.

Two seats sat next to each other empty by the bar under dim lights, flickering. The wood was stained with years' worth of booze and vomit, and a lonely jukebox sat in the corner playing some crappy nu metal album by some loser band who wore way too much goddamn mascara. The two ordered a few rounds of the worst beer they had and got to chugging and belching. Eventually, Ymir couldn't stand the singer's voice or his whining about his shitty breakup any longer and went over and kicked the jukebox until it started playing something more acceptable.

“You know you could have just put a coin in it, shithead.” growled the bartender.

“I'll shove a quarter in you in about two seconds, fucker.” snarled Ymir as she stood up and held the poor sod by the scruff of his shirt. “We just got back from promoting justice, I'll do whatever the fuck I want to your shitty music.”

Atma, in her embarrassment for her comrade, plunked down a pile of greenbacks and pulled Ymir away. “C'mon, I'm not bringing you home bloody to Christa. Let's go somewhere else.”

Ymir bit her lip and huffed, stiffly moving out, shoulders and legs tense as she followed her friend around. “Yeah, yeah.”

Too ashamed to continue speaking, Ymir was lead by Atma to a nearby liquor store and picked themselves up a fifth of cheap, plain vodka, Ymir shoving it in her mouth the second they left the store. 

“You need to chill out, Ymir. I know you're tense because your marriage date is coming up and we just got back from another brutal mission, but you need to fucking relax.” sighed Atma, rubbing her head and swiping the bottle, taking a swig herself. “Say, why don't we go get ourselves a matching set of tattoos to commemorate our victory? I'll buy.”

“Ugh, stop fucking paying for everything! I'm a grown-ass woman, Atma. I can pay for my own bad life choices.” Ymir yelled as she took the bottle back, guzzling and wincing from how completely awful it tasted.

“Fuck, Ymir, I'm doing it so you can save your money for your soon to be wife. I ain't getting married anytime soon, I can afford to help you live your last days as a single woman in glory so you have fond memories to look back on. Or something. I lost my train of thought.” Atma sighed as she continued to play vodka swap until the two ran out. “Now come on. Let's get inked. Good idea. The vodka's already numbed us up enough. What are you, a wuss?”

“I'm going to sit on you! And fart loudly! Don't make me do it!” groaned Ymir as she stood up, her head swirling just a bit from all the booze fermenting in her gut. “Though, haha, you'd probably like, jack off to that or something. Port slut!”

“You already called me that. We'll get some food on the way back too and crash at a hotel and drive back in the morning, okay?” Atma took Ymir's hand and lead her along the dark streets of the Los Angeles ghettos, almost as if she was guiding a dog around, her other hand near one of her myriad of knives just in case.

After a bit, they came to a parlor, still open at this hour of night, a couple motorcycles parked up front, complete with a half-blown out neon sign, sparking in the dark. 'Fukkin Inkmaster' was such a charming name and Atma could tell that meant some degree of edgy tryhard quality was abound. It was hard to disagree with a shop that kept samples in the window of fat hairy dudes with badly drawn naked women on them.

She dragged Ymir in and ordered for them both a matching set of screaming eagles with talons stuffed with lightning bolts and breathing fire. Cheap vodka will do that to the human mind. Atma shoved Ymir down into the chair first and made sure she was going to go through with this like a real friend would before getting in the seat next to her and laughing the whole time, asking her war buddy if she remembered the thing they did just last week. And the other thing. And the first thing again since she forgot she brought it up.

After a while, the two started to sober up, but the work was almost done and there was no sense is asking them to just crap out three-quarters of the way in. Ymir held her head as she came to, hers getting done first, and sitting in the lobby again as her head went from light to heavy, swirly to pounding. Hungover already. Atma promised to leave a large tip to make up for their drunken war banter as her companion left and watched the crappy TV in the corner, turned to Fox News of all things. 

“....just received word that the Eastern European nation of Belarus has been bombed. They have declared war on the US. Photos of the suspects have been released...”

Ymir rolled her eyes. Seemed like every other day now someone somewhere was trying to wreck the rest of the world. People were unhappy, and it was part of her job to fix it. But still, it was Fox News, and even she knew what a pile of rotten vomit they were. If Belarus was bombed and they did declare war, she'd want to see it from a more reputable source before wondering who the hell it was she had to go blow the brains out of this time to keep things at a minimal of damage. She almost stopped paying attention when the suspect photos came on screen.

“You have....got to....SHIT. ATMA YOU DUMBASS, ARE YOU ALMOST DONE? PAY AND GET OUT HERE NOW!” screeched Ymir in a panic. She went to run back into the work room when she clanged heads with her companion, growling in pain and rubbing her head. “Oh. Good. You're done. Leave the money and look at the TV.”

“Is this another one of those stupid products on infomerical you love so much you want me to buy you as a wedding gift or...” before she could finish, Ymir slapped her in the face and dragged her over, pointing furiously at the television. “Oh. Geeze. Yeah it's Fox News, I know it sucks, what the fuck did you hit me for? This isn't new to me, they've been shit for a couple decades now and...”

Ymir slapped her in the back of the head this time and pointed to the photos they were sharing. Gee, one of them looked just like Atma, and the other like herself. Fox News was accusing them of bombing Belarus and getting us entangled in another Eastern European campaign. Atma went quiet, looking at Ymir then at the TV, back and forth a few times before making a dash for her wallet, plunking down more than enough to cover cost and tip, and pulling Ymir out before they could see their faces any longer.

“SHIT! Those motherfucking pieces of fucking shit I'm gonna tear them apart!” seethed Atma, her fists balling up and body shaking, eyes wide as tears of rage streamed down her face, every bit of her glowing a pinkish red. “We gotta get back home. Tonight. You got any of those pill packs left?”

“Yeah, a few days' worth if needed. We did finish early.” nodded Ymir, reaching her fingers into a pouch on her belt and pulling a bit of cloth out. “We dosing up?”

“Yeah, swallow that shit. We're gonna need it if we want to get back up to the bay by dawn.” Atma said, swallowing her handful of pills from her own cloth pouch as her eyes scanned over the parking lot and noticed some huge drunk asshole by a motorcycle, approaching him and beckoning Ymir for backup as she spoke to him. “Hey, we're gonna need that. I'll pay you for it.”

“Har har, fat chance, sweetie. This boy's mine and mine alone. Unless you wanna ride with me and ditch your loser boyfriend over there.” said the biker, crossing his arms and sounding smug, a thick bog stench of cheap beer emanating from him.

Atma just looked up at Ymir and started cracking up, Ymir herself blushing a bit and rubbing her head as she took her pills, biting her lip so she wouldn't make any sounds and give away her actual gender. “You must be mistaken. This one's engaged. I was busy fooling with the whores in Thailand just yesterday. Now, wanna take me up on my offer or is my 'boyfriend' going to have to make you give it to us for free?”

The biker continued to refuse, stomping over to Ymir and leering at her, Ymir making sure to cross her arms over her chest to hide her tits, staying quiet as he sized her up. “I bet I can take your pansy ass, boy. You look too soft.” he laughed as he reached for Ymir's shoulder. Unfortunately for him, bar brawls are not a good substitute for military training, and Ymir soon had him thrown over her shoulder onto the ground and restrained with rope, leg locking his hip in place.

“Maybe you should lose some fucking weight before you go calling people soft, asshole.” snarled Ymir, rifling through the guy's pockets for money and his keys.

“W-what? You're a woman? What the fuck, you two a couple of dykes or something?” slurred the biker, Ymir taking the opportunity to boot him in the side of the head so he'd go nighty-night.

“Assholes always talking too much. Easiest fucking opponents in the universe. Come on, the pills are gonna hit soon and we gotta make ourselves scarce. I'll drive.” said Ymir as she walked over to the cycle, picking up a pair of pickelhaube helmets from the side and tossing one to Atma as she put the keys in and started it up, strapping her helm on her head and grinning. “It's almost four hundred miles to San Francisco from here if we take the trucker's route. Get in, grab my waist, and hold on tight; we'll be fucking flying. Breakfast is gonna have to wait until we're home and safe, I'm afraid.”

Atma grinned and put her helm on, smooshing herself up against Ymir and gripping her waist and hooking through her belt as hard as she could. “Oh, what a noble Prince Charming I have carrying me home on a noble steed. No wonder Christa fell for you so hard.”

“Oh shut the fuck up, you look as androgynous as I do. I'm just taller, dipshit, I ain't no prince. If I hear one more word out of you about it, you're hitchhiking home.” snarled Ymir as she jerked the engine and got it roaring. “Besides, if I had a dick, I wouldn't be sticking it in your filthy hole.”

“Same to you, assfucker. Let's get home before the feds trail our ass.” laughed Atma, holding on as Ymir navigated a way out and towards the nearest freeway exit, a large thick cloud of crap coming out of the exhaust behind them. 

Their minds began to slowly melt down the drain of reality as they focused, their drugs taking over and giving them the insane drive to push through, easily hitting a hundred miles and zig-zagging between cars with absolutely no fear in them, as if time and life itself had no meaning and no relevance to their existences anymore. Their eyes grew wide as they amped up, drooling in the wind as they drove through the flat California farmlands, the smell of cow shit and avocado passing by their nostrils, all of it becoming a blur as they left The City of Angels behind.


	2. Chapter 2

Hours blended together as their addled brains rattled in their skulls, barely remembering if they stopped for gas and to take a piss and see how far they had to go. At one point, Ymir pulled over and threw up a pile of old vodka and beer suds all over the side of the road, making Atma take over as they pulled back into the bay around five in the morning. Poor Ymir clung to Atma and shut her eyes, passing out as the sky went from dark to dawn, the sun rising as they made it to the Golden Gate.

A short while later they were in Wine Country, pulling up into their quiet little suburb and into their driveway, Atma trying to keep the engine down low and putting as not to wake the women that were inside their house. She slapped Ymir awake and had her help her pull the motorcycle out back to hide it, pulling out their keys and making their way inside and flopping on the couch in the living room and passing out against each other, snoring loudly.

Christa woke first, climbing out of bed in her nightgown and towards the kitchen to make coffee. Her ears picked up on the loud, rumbling sounds coming from the two women on the couch, looking over, surprised at first and slowly smiling. They were safe. Her cheeks flushed red as she went to set the coffee machine on and percolating, rushing in to slip a note under the bedroom Atma and her girlfriend, Koshka, used, rousing the soldier's Russian bride awake. Well, more like she had been up, her schedule was odd like that, but it was a sign she should stay up a bit.

A note shot out from under the door soon after, replying to Christa's initial inquiry. Yes, she could come help make them all breakfast quietly. She yawned a bit and came out, nodding to the shorter girl and following her along, making sure to get the larger crates of eggs and bacon out in order to feed the two hungry demons on their couch. After a bit, they brought the food and fresh coffee in, setting it near the two sleepyheads and watching them rouse from their short nap, stomachs growling and mouths drooling as they rubbed their eyes and looked over at their happy, groggy girlfriends. The two hardened soldiers couldn't help but smile and blush as they saw them and dug into their food, so forever grateful they existed. You could practically hear them thinking of proposing all over again right there on the spot, their hearts a-flutter with love and trickling bacon grease.

The two finished up and watched their girls eat a bit slower, their brains coming off the high that got them through the night and up here in record time. Christa went to turn the TV on when Ymir's memory came back, suddenly shooting herself up in front of the screen and frantically shaking her head. Koshka could tell something was up; she couldn't hear, but she could smell bullshit and fear a mile away. She glared at Ymir, nodding to Christa to tell her to turn it on anyways, as if to tell her she needs to keep her dumb fiancee in charge and not let her boss her around like this. The smaller girl nodded back in return, glad to have Koshka supporting her as she turned it on to a much more reliable news source, the closed caption playing clear as day and displaying right between Ymir's legs.

Life came to a halt for Atma and Ymir, the two covering their faces as the words across the screen read out the crimes they'd been accused of. Namely, starting international war by bombing small European nations. Christa and Koshka knew they had been out on a mission, but not quite what, and wondering if this is what they had set out to do. They turned to the soldiers, horrified, Christa on the verge of tears as they just looked, embarrassed and ashamed for a job they didn't even do, trying their best to plead innocence, their lips and throats unable to come up with any words satisfying enough to dispel the fear in their lovers' eyes.

“D-did you two....r-really...” Christa began to choke up, unable to talk, using every bit of energy she had to keep her tears from flowing, muffled sobs escaping her.

Ymir couldn't even look at her. The media had spun it so well that they didn't even have time to come up with a counter-story. Even their own girlfriends believed it. Shit.

That's when Atma dove into her own pocket and pulled out a business card from the brothel she had stayed at in Thailand and handed it to Koshka. Sure, she'd be yelled at later for not being able to keep her legs closed, but the shame later was worth saving their asses now. She hit Ymir in the arm and started digging in her pockets as well, pulling out a small receipt.

“Just give me this, it'll save your almost-marriage.” whispered Atma as she stole it from her friend, keeping it in hand as Christa and Koshka looked it over. Koshka just sighed; yeah, this sounds exactly like the kind of place that Atma would stay at. But how could she tell for sure that they'd been in Thailand?

As luck would have it, the news ticker at the bottom of the screen mentioned a rebel effort there succeeding just a couple days prior. Ymir pointed quickly and gave a thumbs up. “See? T-that's what we were doing! We were on the other side of the world!”

Christa pouted. “Well, was it worth it? Did you have fun? You went overseas with Atma and stayed at a place like this? Behind my back? Is that what you're trying to tell me?” she shouted as she let the tears flow.

Paper in hand, Atma stood up and kneeled by Christa, showing her the receipt she pulled out of Ymir's pocket, noting it was only for one night and the charges were just for one person staying. She places a hand on the poor crying girl's head and smiled. “Oi, Christa. She just paid for my night there. The entire time I was parting and being an irresponsible little shit, she kept her cool and just bragged about marrying you soon. I promise you, the only woman on her mind there was you.”

She stopped crying as she looked over at Ymir, who was now blushing bright red under her tanned skin, rubbing her head a bit and nodding. “Look, Christa, I know Ymir and I used to...do things before she met you, but I'm not going to be a bad influence on her. She's my best friend. And I want to see her happy with you. Let me be the dumbshit this time, okay?”

Somehow, Atma's plan worked. It was much easier to believe that they'd been elsewhere and falsely accused and hanging out around whores instead of bombing innocent civilians to Hell and back. Koshka stood up, pulled Atma's tanktop down, and inspected her neck and chest. Yeah, it was positively covered in hickies and teeth marks and bruising; her story checked out. Koshka took her hand and slapped it into the back of her girlfriend's head and sighed, sitting back down. Ymir took a turn and hit Atma sharply in the same spot, snarling at her a bit.

“Ouch! The hell was that for?” asked Atma, looking beaten and tired. Koshka just pointed to the card and rolled her eyes. Looks like that's what she gets for whoring herself out a bit too much while on the job. Ymir, however, narrowed her eyes and sat back down on the couch, flipping her friend off. 

“That's for bringing up our complicated past, asshole.” she sighed, rubbing the freckles across the bridge of her nose. “Look, forget it. We're home and our girls believe us. The next question is how the hell we're supposed to fucking deal with this.”

A heavy silence filled the room as Ymir opened a latch on one of her belt pouches and pulled out another small satchel of pills, undoing the bindings on them and eying her dosage. Koshka's eyes fixated on it, leaping up and taking it from Ymir before she could have a chance to down them, the soldier unable to retaliate as fast as she would have liked, her body still exhausted and starting to feel the effects of withdrawal badly. Ymir snarled, a bit of sweat forming on her brow, grabbing Atma's wrist and pulling her in.

“Control your woman and tell her to give us our pills back. I'm fucking shaking here and don't wanna puke up my bacon.” she whispered tersely into her friend's ear.

Atma groaned a bit, looking at Ymir and her gross paling face, then towards Koshka and frowning a bit, as if to motion she's about to become an unwilling barf bag for her friend's withdrawal-fueled nausea. Koshka just shook her head. Atma knew better than to question her if she said no, turning to Christa and freeing her hand from Ymir's gross clammy grasp, starting to not feel so hot herself. 

“Hey, Christa, sign to Koshka and ask her why she won't give it back. I'm gonna get Ymir a towel and a bucket.” she said as she stood up, kicking Ymir in the shin. Her body was starting to sweat and swirl too, the effects of the drugs leaving her hard on top of all that booze. She managed to get a few cool towels and buckets over before flopping into her companion, breathing hard and rubbing her eyes. “Shit.”

The two girlfriends were busy communicating, Christa slowly relaying it to them. Koshka was going to analyze what was in those pills, not wanting us to be self-medicating without her permission, and work on something to leech it out of them. If they were going to clear their names and beat the feds, they were going to need to do it with minimal vomiting. A tiny bit of retching on Ymir's part prompted Koshka to go into her room for a bit, working as fast as she could, prodding Christa to take care of the two messy idiots they loved so much.

Koshka was only out a bit, but to the two sick soldiers it felt like an eternity, shaking and retching in cold, sticky pain. She came back with her notes on what was in their drug cocktails: it was a bizarre mixture of meth, cocaine, opioids, and a tiny dash of LSD. Perfect for long, busy missions to keep them going and staying compliant and pain free, but an absolute wreck on their bodies if they were without it constantly. She was just lucky she kept a lab in the basement where she had some of the chemicals used to balance their brains out brewing in it, no matter how illegal it was. Koshka immediately went to retrieve it and administrate it, telling them to use what strength they had to get into a dark bedroom so nobody could see or hear them. It was detoxing time.

The two sickly soldiers spent almost a week in bed, too wracked with pain and misery to do much but swear at each other as Koshka tended to them and helped their bodies and brains readjust. It was the first time in months that they had been without a dose or two of it a day and it showed in their eyes. Poor Christa kept an eye on the news, watching as a bounty had been posted for both of them, encouraging anyone with info to call the feds immediately. Things were growing dire and Belarus soon officially declared war on the US, decrying their cowardly tactics of attacking first and announcing intent later. Countries worldwide started picking sides until it was a complete political clusterfuck. The charges against Ymir and Atma were officially listed as terrorist acts with intent to start World War III. The two could barely believe how stupid the whole thing was.

As they lay and went through treatment, they began to hatch a plan to escape and fix this. They somehow needed to get to Belarus themselves and find out the real culprit and shame them on international television. But how would they get there when surely every seaport and airport would have wanted posters plastered everywhere? They'd need fake names, falsified passports, illegal smuggling routes out of the country, a new home base, money, and shittons of weaponry. Thankfully, Koshka could forge documents for them in relatively short order. They had money and weapons stored in a cache under the floorboards for emergencies like this and they knew people who knew people they could bribe to get them on a boat across the Pacific. It would be an incredibly long mission, and they could wind up in Slavic territories balls-deep in war. But what about a base?

“Y'know, I think my father still runs that ship-based pot farm off the coast over near international waters. Nobody's going to touch that or look for us there; it's a pretty inconspicuous boat registered in one of his friend's names. We should be safe there until we can find a boat willing to smuggle us out. We can spend a few days there finalizing our plans, too.” said Atma, looking over at Ymir and grinning. “All I gotta do is ring him up. He'd never turn us in. You can trust me on this.”

“Sounds like the best were gonna get. Go ahead and call in the morning. Spend tonight getting ready and we'll head out the second he okays it.” replied Ymir, feeling somewhat better and attempting a round of push ups to get herself back in shape. “....We're not going to be back a while, are we?”

“Not for a month or two at the minimum.” Atma's eyes narrowed a bit, tone a bit more downcast and serious than normal. “Get everything we have and say your goodbyes tonight. We're going to have to blow everything we have on this, you realize this, right?”

“Yeah. Shit. One last hurrah then, huh? I'm ready to retire and settle down anyways, but fuck if the world isn't gonna make it easy for us.” snarled Ymir, sounding pretty fucking upset at this point. “At least some of this shit will find a use. I was afraid we'd have to sell it on the black market and wash our hands of it. At least this way is slightly more fun.”

“That's the spirit. And yeah, after this, fuck this job. If it's going to get my ass labeled a terrorist, I don't want anything more to do with it. We do this for us. And for the women we love. Let's make our future a happy one, Ymir.”

“Goddamn right we will!”

The two had their first full dinner since coming home, their bodies relatively normal again, working on pulling out every single weapon and dollar bill they stowed away while Koshka and Christa worked on packing their bags and forging all their paperwork, leaving it in a neat folder by their bags. Guns and knives and projectiles of all kind were dredged up, along with a few nasty surprises, with Ymir's favorite SMG by her bag and Atma's sharpest machete by hers. The two then took their respective girlfriends to bed and rocked mattresses with them until the late hours of the night, knowing it might be their last time making love to them, not wanting to leave them unsatisfied.

Dawn came and Atma made the call. It was cleared right away; they could leave any second they wanted. The two soldiers chugged some coffee and suited up, tying their hair back, Ymir in a blue headband and Atma in a red bandanna, painting large black marks under their eyes and loading the van they kept in the garage, the windows sufficiently tinted and quickly swapping the plates out with fake ones just in case.

“D-do you two really have to go?” Christa wept as Koshka tried to pretend she was tough.

“Yeah. I do. We do. If not, you two will be at just as much risk as we are. Everyone will be. They claim it's our mess, so we're going to clean it up the only way we know how.” replied Ymir, staring at her feet, trying not to cry as well, pulling Christa in and kissing her cheek and head. “I'm sorry, Christa. I love you. So fucking much. Never forget that.”

Koshka and Atma just nodded and kissed, leaving Atma with a stern warning to not sleep around too much overseas and forget her mission or fall for the enemy or she would swim on over and stomp across international borders herself to kick her ass. Atma rolled her eyes, somehow laughing a bit as she sobbed, hugging her girlfriend and loading up as snot ran down her face.

The two got in, Atma tossing Ymir the keys and letting her start this up, rolling back out and waving goodbye, rolling their tinted windows up to hide their faces, more so so their girlfriends wouldn't see them crying like complete idiots than worrying if cops would recognize them or not. Once they were a decent distance away, Atma pulled out a tape and shoved it into the radio deck, turning the volume and bass knobs to max, waiting for Ymir to accelerate and hit the road that lead to the coastline before pressing play, the sweet sweet sound of electric guitars and harsh demonic vocals narrating their adventure out west. The two pushed their own tears back as they started a shitty sing along, trying their best to sound metal as fuck and completely embarrassing to anyone pulled up next to them at any red lights they encountered. The road burned behind them as they hauled chunky old van ass; one could swear they could hear the sounds of eagles crying and things exploding in the distance as they steeled themselves for this righteous mission of freedom and justice.


	3. Chapter 3

Approximately twenty minutes later, a loud clang arose from the engine and smoke began billowing out. Only about halfway to the coast; this was an ill omen at best. The music slowly died out as the power to the deck was cut off, Ymir growling in fury as she turned this heap to the side of the road and began to snarl, her tanned freckles lighting up a neon red as she withheld every swear word in human history back. At least they broke down near a forested vineyard area where nobody gave a shit so long as you didn't go fuck up the crops. First things were first, as Atma ejected the cassette from the deck and stuffed it in her pocket. Ymir got out and kicked the hood open in a mighty fury and let the smoke subside before she looked in.

“Shit's fucked?” asked Atma, immediately turning her attention to the back of the van and guarding it.

“Shit's majorly fucked.” replied Ymir, kicking the front a good few more times and finally letting her lungs flow in a fury of swear words, some never heard before on this planet, before her hands clasped the top and forcefully pushed it back down. “The weapons okay?”

“Yeah, this shit at least isn't fucked.” Atma opened the back and began to retrieve a pair of long coats, tossing one to Ymir, as she scrounged through the reserves. “I suggest we get what we can equipped, use the coats to conceal them, and hike the rest of the way. I got the directions, but no way in fuck can we trust anyone to get us there. It's gonna suck and take til at least sundown to finish the walk, but on the bright side, the coast here has a lot of good booze.”

“Should've brought that part up first. I'm gonna need that incentive to make it the rest of the way, you know.” Ymir growled and got her favorite guns holstered, strapping plenty of ammo to her chest and lining up several grenades alongside them. Her fists were padded with sap gloves, as were Atma's, their boots plated in leather and steel. Atma lined up an amazing amount of blades, both short and long, tucking them into her coat and uniform as she gave the van a good thrashing herself. “This piece of shit, rot in hell. Couldn't even make it to the coast, eh? Rust here for eternity!”

“Geeze, Ymir, I know this sucks but you sound so fucking melodramatic about it. Calm down and enjoy the Pacific air.” said Atma as she began to lead the way, one step at a time. “We'll get there. Besides, just think of all the nice weed we can share once we get there. You'll like that, won't you?”

“...Yeah that does sound nice. Lead the way then, sir!” Ymir reached her hands behind her head and began to whistle off key, forgetting at least half the words to the song she was trying to sing. Unfortunately for her, her horrible karaoke attracted some unwanted attention after a while. Halfway into their trip, they encountered one of the local gangs.

“Aww, fucknuggets!” said Ymir, thick in disappointment. Her and Atma immediately locked shoulders and shrugged, looking each other in the eyes with an air of annoyance. A group of raw teen thugs with bandannas and knives and cheap guns circled them, laughing a bit, hoping they found an easy mark.

“Aww look, a couple dykes out on a date! Wanna give us your filthy homo money or what?” asked one of them, making an awkward gesture towards them with a knife that said 'I have never used a weapon in my entire life' to both of them.

“Ymir, I blame you and your sapphic freckled ass for them knowing we're gay just by looking at us.” snorted Atma, entirely ignoring the threat.

“What? Me? I'm pretty sure you're the one who smells like fish and girlcock about now. What have I been telling you about those port girls? You gotta gargle afterward.” retorted Ymir, watching these kids flail.

“You would know, assmaster.”

“Same to you, clitcocker.”

The two got on guard, back to back, fists up as they watched themselves get circled in on, slowly and awkwardly. These kids couldn't rob the broadside of a barn, let alone two special ops units. Eventually, one of them began speaking in Spanish to Ymir, mistaking her tanned skin tone for somewhere around Mexico. 

“What?” replied Ymir, completely lost. The kid continued to prattle on.

“No, seriously, what?” Ymir was growing more and more annoyed as the kid rattled on about who knew whatever the hell. The freckled one got fed up and pulled a Calico M960 from her jacket, immediately firing a few rounds into the dirt around her and her friend.

“I AIN'T MEXICAN!” grinned Ymir, the smoke settling off her gun. “EITHER SPEAK IN ENGLISH OR AWESOME BECAUSE I DON'T SPEAK NOTHING ELSE IN MY VOCABULARY!”

The kids at once stepped back, freaking the fuck out at her superior firepower and dropping their guns and wallets as they fled back whence they came. One kid, presumably the leader, apologized profusely at their feet in words neither of them knew. It was okay; the intent got fully across to the two, just sighing as Ymir fired off another round nearby and eagerly took the money out of the left behidn wallets for her own gain.

“Look! Beer money! My treat, sir, just like back in our training days!” Ymir grinned as she slung an arm around Atma, cheek to cheek. After a slow, awkward bit of bonding and silence, Atma's cheek blushing red, the two parted from each other physically.

“...Ymir, you haven't hugged me like that since before our breakup.” Atma sputtered, her body tense and sweating from the encounter. She couldn't say she didn't miss that feeling. But she had Koshka now, and Ymir had Christa. These were much, much better and healthier matchups in the long run. But the way Ymir's body felt against hers on long, slow training nights, pressed against the tanks, the two panting and trying their best to conceal their moaning, fingers and tongues in places not meant to be in the first place....

“Shit.” Ymir replied, facing away from Atma and rubbing the back of her head nervously, distracting herself by putting her gun away safely. “Sorry about that. I just got so heated up that I...”

“...It's okay. Don't worry about it. Come on, let's march on, I want that drink you said you'd pay for.” Atma replied, trying her best to save face as she marched on, trying her best to put that hug out of her mind. Ymir shortly followed, making odd commentary here and there about the various flora and fauna along the way. There were only so many deer and buck puns one could handle before nightfall when they finally found themselves in the welcome glow of a cheap, quiet, roadside tavern. Maybe the gods did love them after all.

The two wandered on in and flomped into a corner booth, ordering the biggest, grossest ales they had in volume and chugging them on down. What's a few plates of wings and fries between friends anyways? Ymir left out a few fat twenties to take care of this, sighing a bit and pushing her hands into her arms on the table.

“Oi. You don't suppose there's an inn around here still open, would ya? A couple of flighty broads here need a sleep, y'see. We'll be gone by noon, swear it.” said Atma to the bartender, having seen Ymir almost ready to nod off. She was shown directions out the window and to the left, said to be cheap and easy, at least a short enough distance to haul Ymir off in and get her to bed. She made sure to leave a tip as she dragged Ymir's sleepy ass off to the hotel, checking them in and flomping her into a cheap, shared, queen sized bed, laying her on her side so she didn't puke and choke. Atma didn't care if they were that close, since it was likely Ymir would be up soon enough puking her drunk guts out into the plumbing system of this place anyways. More blankets for her.

Though part of her took pity on the poor, snoring freckled wonder, who now snore on her side, reeking of hops and yeast as she drooled dizzily in her dreams. Atma reached in and reluctantly gave that familiar forehead a soft kiss, as if to thank her for the whole saving her form the gang thing earlier, tucking her in tight and going in to check her weapons and shower before her comrade could wake up. There would be Problems with a capital P if she found out she had been smooching her in her sleep again, but payback's a bitch, and if you're going to fluster her up on a highway that damn much then turnabout's fair and all. 

“Sweet dreams, teammate.” Atma whispered to Ymir, her lips lingering far, far too long of that freckled bridge, thoroughly ashamed of herself as she got up to wash herself off. Her eyes were wholly unable to meet her own reflection as she looked herself over in the mirror, slowly unequipping herself and undressing, taking a sit in a hot bath in a cheap tub.

“Gods, forgive me for sinning like that and kissing a taken woman.” she prayed quietly to herself.

Of course, Ymir had to ruin the moment by running in and throwing the toilet lid up as she hurled her late dinner of ale and grease into the bowl below. It wasn't an unfamiliar sound, but was still gross as always. It was bound to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

The night was mostly restless as the two shared that awkward bed. Atma hid her face in guilt most of the evening as Ymir snored her hangover off, occasionally getting up to vomit again and rinse her mouth out after. Her gargling could be quite intense at times. Maybe between them, they got a full eight hours of sleep total, but in no way did either of them come close to it on their own. Still, work had to be done and they got up at the crack of dawn, suiting up and checking their weapons as they hid them, making their way down to the lobby for a free continental breakfast.

Do you know what makes hangovers go away? Egg.

Do you know what makes mornings great? Egg.

Do you know what is a good source of protein and energy? Egg.

Do you know what goes good with toast, coffee, and bacon? Egg.

Do you know what egg? Egg.

“Egg?” Ymir asked Atma as she scooped some onto her plate like a good friend.

“Egg!” replied Atma as she took a huge bite. “Egg?” she then said, pointing at the one on Ymir's plate.

“Very egg.” nodded Ymir as she swirled some toast in her yolk and munched.

“Egg? Egg!” the two commented as they finished up and paid their room fee, returning the keys and returning to their walk towards the coast. If they were lucky, they could be there before lunchtime. They put their headbands back on and clashed foreheads in a manly way and began to march down the road, stopping only to piss. How they could do that standing up was their little secret. A few rounds of bad air guitar and rocking out to half remembered lyrics were had as they finally noticed the waves of the ocean in the distance. Finally, the Pacific coast was theirs, and with it a vast beach of nothingness. The two immediately discussed crab roasts and fish and chips, wondering if any place nearby was to get some. They really should've bought some and took it with them earlier.

They were tempted to just sit on the shore and spearfish a while and roast their catches like true men would but when it turned out Ymir would rather not her weapons be turned into makeshift squirt guns, it was quickly abandoned. 

The beach welcomed them with nothing. Just waves. And seagulls. A small alcove to the east hidden behind the hallowed curves of a nearby cliff hid within it a small bit of brackish water, shellfish, and stairs downward into a hidden port that lay shining in the darkness beneath the beach. Few would go in here or even think to look for anything of value were they to wander in, nor know the exact location of the steps below the sticky sea bits that now clung to the bottom of their boots.

Atma stood at the edge of the dock next to a small boat, holding her hand out and offering it to Ymir for balance. “After you, sir. This will get us there without notice, I promise.”

Ymir snorted a bit and took her up on that offer, getting in not daintily at all and sprawling out a bit. “Bah, I ain't no lady or sir. But this shit sure is comfy. So lead the way, cap'n. I'm gonna take a nap til we get there.”

With the boat barely teetering, Atma hopped in and untied it from the dock, slowly directing it downstream in this secret underwater passageway. It was just wide enough to fit the boat without much rocking, it slow going and quiet. They could up the engine if they needed to hurry, but either way it wouldn't be til late that they made it to the massive farmship, so they may as well catch up on their sleep now. At least Ymir could nap for now as Atma got the course laid out.

Hours went by boringly. Ymir snored a bit and mumbled about how she was queen of the seafood gumbo in her sleep, only waking up around what they suspected to be noon. She rubbed her eyes and let out a massive yawn, seeing nothing but water everywhere. 

“Yo, you sure this is the right way?” asked Ymir, taking the seat next to Atma and putting her feet up on the dash. Inside one of her pockets was a pair of sunglasses she flipped on, grinning a bit as the sun shone off them. Atma also had some on, having taken off her coat and weapons and setting them nearby, looking at maps and a GPS.

“Yeah, it's still gonna be most of the day and probably into night til we get there at a good, safe pace. If you want to sleep again, go for it. At this point I probably don't need to navigate a while but it's not like there's anything else to do.” replied Atma, sighing a bit and looking over at Ymir. “If you're bored, though, there's a small set of fishing gear on deck you can catch and cook us a few meals on. It'll delay the trip a while and we'll need the engine to cook it on, but it's doable.”

“How did you know I was gonna ask if you brought us any snacks?” asked Ymir, flipping her shades down curiously.

“You should listen to your fatass talk in your sleep sometime, Little Miss Queen of Creole. You'd think that's where you were born or some shit is down in Louisiana with how much your mouth rattled on about the good ol' down south seafood grills and gumbos. At least part of your ridiculous dream can come true now.”

“Yeah okay, shut the fuck up. I'll fish, but I'm getting first dibs since I'm doing all the work. Maybe I'll grow a stubbly beard too just to show you how much manlier I am than you!” bragged Ymir as she put the road over her crotch and laughing. “Look, see, I already sprouted a dick! You try doing that.”

“I'll put the engine to idle then and take a nap then, you testosterone-fueled freckled fuckface. Enjoy eating girls out with your chin fuzz you're praying for.”

“Bite me, port slut.”

“Only if you paid me.”

And with that, Atma promptly found a shady spot nearby on the boat, stretched out, and nodded off. Ymir pulled out a cap decorated from lures and flopped it on her head, grinning as she cast her rod and waited for dinner to come by. Her tanned skin gleaned a gold in the sun as she whistled a bit and picked her nose, waiting for anything to bite. She pulled out a big fishing net and rigged it up next to her to haul in more. Part of her really grew fond of this northern ocean area, if only because herring were not really found here, which meant seafood was safe for her to eat again. After surstromming traumatized her as a kid, seafood had never been quite the same until she was stationed in San Francisco and saw that not ever bit of fish was so horrifically pickled. Then again, add lemon and hot sauce to anything and it became edible, but she found she didn't even need to resort to her usual methods to make things palatable here. Stupid tasty fresh oceanside food. How dare you.

While her mind wandered, she managed to get a bite and hauled it in. Damn, that's a sizable mackerel. That could feed them both decently enough as is on its own. She put it out of its misery and set it aside as she pulled the net in, filled with a few more mackerel and some tuna, just for variety. At once, she popped open the boat's engine, letting it rev up and idle nice and hot and crispy as she took one of Atma's knives off her belt and began to filet the fish and throw them on the hot metal to grill. Now and again she'd use the blade tip to flip them over, making sure they got evenly cooked, when she noticed a tiny squid at the bottom of the net. Instead of killing it for her lunch, she picked it up, unzipped her comrade's pants, and dumped it on in. It was about time to wake her to eat and get going anyways and she figured this would work about as well as anything else.

Atma began to squirm uncomfortably as the squid slicked around, prodding into things it shouldn't, prompting her to a state of half awareness, Ymir's beaming smile looking down on her being the first thing she saw.

“Psst, I think a tentacle monster's got hold of you! I was gonna save you but then I remembered you were into that kinky shit so I let it be. Hope you don't mind.” said Ymir, going to pull up the hot filets and put them on over the supply container lid she got the net from. “Lunch and dinner for the next few days is ready. We can get going as we eat; the rest can cool off and dry and we can munch on it like jerky. Bitches love jerky!”

The other girl immediately screamed, picked the squirming squid out of her, and tossed it hard against Ymir's backside, wiping herself off and pulling her pants back up.

“What the actual fuck is your damage, Ymir? I ain't giving you a free show in the middle of the fucking ocean! We got work to do, and I'm pretty sure Christa would have your tits off if she heard you were trying to sneak a peek.” Atma growled as she took her knife from Ymir's grasp, stabbing a filet to nibble on as she got back in the driver's seat. “Behave your ass or I'm dumping you here and you can swim back home.”

“It doesn't count unless I touch, so joke's on you.” grinned Ymir as she inhaled a whole filet at once, spitting out a couple bones and stretching. “So how much longer til we get there?”

“Not til past nightfall now. Go secure the food and I'll haul ass.”

With that done, the two made a continuous effort towards the pot palace ship at decent pace, peeing off the side of the boat at slow engine puts if needed, otherwise just gunning for it. Eventually, with the moon and the stars shining on the water clearly, they made it and docked into a small port on the side of the ship, watching as it carried them on to the deck of the barge, carrying in their food and weapons with them. The palace was a dingy old cargo barge, but it made for the most inconspicuous look, because really, who the fuck would waste time investigating this dingy thing?

Inside looked much much cleaner and souped up than the outside. There was strong, quietly humming generators running hooked up to ice chests, fridges, computers, all sorts of fancy shit. There was clean water, a full bathroom, a place to sleep, a hijacked internet signal, some kind of free net radio playing easy tunes in the background, and even the ship itself was modded to be stronger and tougher. The outside had a modified landing pad and a bomber plane on top, ready to launch with superior landing gear equipped at any time. And nobody was here for the next day or two so it was their own private heaven in international waters for that time. They could plan and forge plenty of documents and make a travel route here and catch up on their sleep and food first. The fish could be saved in the ice for rations on the next leg of their journey.

The ice chest contained a handle of unopened vodka. Atma's father didn't drink, but he always kept some on hand to clean things or please guests with. It was cheap and an easy crowd pleaser and cleaner that way. Ymir took it upon herself to open this one up and take a taste, letting Atma boot up the free laptop here and work on the route and documents. 

“I wanna be Buff McLarge-Huge.” said Ymir out of nowhere. “You know, as my fake name on my forged documents. I thought of it just now. It sounds really cool and describes me perfectly. What did you pick?”

“First of all, fuck you for picking a better name, freckled asshole. And second, I'm Jung Freud, because you can't go wrong with the classics.” said Atma as she got everything in order and sent to the printer. 

“Oh you got that from that one nerd show that's for nerds. I should have figured you would go with that. Or Hilde.” grinned Ymir as she sprawled out across a couch and yawned. 

“Shut up before you get shipped out to the next boat to Hong Kong.” Atma flipped Ymir off. “It is late though, we should sleep a bit before flying. If we land in Okinawa we should be able to refuel and get to the edge of Russia, where we can hitch a ride on the Trans-Siberian railroad. I already got us tickets. We should be there in two days maximum, then it'll be almost two weeks to Moscow. We can rent something there and drive to Belarus.”

“Sounds like a plan.” said Ymir as she snooped around the ship a bit and found herself back in the fridge, looking for something to fill up on when she noticed a peculiar bottle towards the back. It was full of something strong and green, making a wide wide grin upon pulling it out and sniffing it. “Though I do believe it's tea time.”

With that, she got up and looked around for something she could use as a tea kettle, two cups, a source of heat, water, and a couple teabags, working it all together as she laughed a bit, humming.

“What are you up to?” said Atma as she came in, nudging into Ymir's side and eying her warily. “It's unlike you to suddenly be this happy and interested in tea of all things. Are you trying to get on my good side?”

“You're done with all our work, right? And you said we could use anything on board, right? Well, it's time to treat my favorite hacker to something really really nice.” Ymir put her arm around Atma and messed with her hair a bit. “Go sit down and I'll bring you a cup of something good and strong in just a minute.”

Ymir dumped a bit of the green solution into the pot and mixed it up with the hot tea nice and well until it made a thick, drinkable sludge. God, it reeked of greens and tea stems, and the steam shot up her nose as she opened the pot lid, but past that swampy smell lay a delicious, warm freedom. She took a sip and poured two glasses full of it, offering half the pot to Atma and the other to herself, clinking glasses and leaning back saying “Cheers! To our successes!” before knocking back all of hers in one go, choking a bit but ultimately laying back with a satisfied sigh. “Shit, that's strong.”

Atma tentatively sipped at it before she recognized a familiar flavor, upon which she instinctively downed the rest of it with a big smile on her face. “Oh, that kind of tea! Why didn't you say so, dipshit?”

“Shouldn't it be obvious what kind of tea it was on a pot palace? If we're gonna sleep anyways we may as well enjoy our break, right?” Ymir stretched her hands above her and popped her knuckles one by one, taking up most of the couch as her head lay over the edge. “Let's just enjoy this while we can and get a good, long bit of sleep.”

The two sat back and talked about their plans for their grand final battle, both of them at least agreeing that if they had a radio, they would play some epic power metal upon entering since they didn't know what else would work better as fight music. Soon, the pot in their systems began to make their brains slowly swirl and bodies warm up, eyes fogging as their sense of time and reality came to a halt, unsure where they were in their conversation at all and just devolving into the worst game of rocks paper scissors ever. Eventually, Ymir couldn't keep up anymore, let out a huge yawn and a goodnight, and slumped over onto Atma, immediately asleep and snoring. Poor Atma was toppled over onto the couch, left to sleep under her teammate, heavy as she was, nodding off herself and leaving an impressive drool stream flowing into Ymir's hair and scalp.

And so the two heroes slept.

\---

Back at the homestead of their girlfriends, Koshka and Christa sat down to dinner. In exchange for Koshka doing the dishes every day, Christa didn't mind spending a while making them dinner. Koshka was rarely a bother to her and always finished her plate, so she knew it wouldn't go to someone ungrateful. She only wished Ymir had those manners sometimes. Christa, though, was looking out the window with a look of dread.

Koshka nodded to her, wondering what was the matter. She managed to sign and communicate to her asking if she was worried about Ymir and Atma.

The blonde just shook her head and began to sign back at her. “Nothing like that, Koshka. I just want you to eat your meatball. I know you like your spaghetti and garlic bread, but eat your meatball. You need your protein.”

The other girl pouted a bit in return. 

“I know you don't like beef but if I don't feed you well, Atma will be displeased. She wants me to take care of you, and so I shall. Eat your meatball.”

Koshka replied with just another pout.

“Eat your meatball or you don't get any cake.” pouted Christa in return as she continued signing. “I made a good one too. It's chocolate cake topped with mousse and candies. And not a single crumb of it shall be yours unless you eat your meatball. So eat your meatball and you can have all the cake you like.”

A small sound managed to escape from Koshka's mouth akin to a low roar or gao of hunger as she saw the cake and eyed it. She immediately ate up her meatball and showed Christa her clean plate.

“Good girl. Let's have some cake and go see what's on Netflix. You can get to the dishes later, I know you're good for it.”

\---

Morning, or rather an early afternoon, came and dawned on Ymir and Atma. Ymir woke first, peeling herself off and finding her hand coated in a sticky pile of drool as she ran her fingers through her hair.

“Oh fucking hell, I forgot she's a drooler.” growled Ymir. “Looks like I got time for a shower at least before she wakes. I wonder what time it is though, feels like I slept forever. Thank you, cannabis.”

It felt good to get a real hot shower in after a few days of frantic travel and work. She could hog it all and take as much time as she wanted. Her mind drifted off, wondering how things were back home, renewing her determination to save everyone and set this right, if only for Christa. Damn, she missed her cooking. Fuck, she was lucky to ever have met her and have her choose her to date.

This tender moment was ruined by Ymir putting a towel around her shoulders and walking out buck naked into the main room and waking Atma. “Hey. It's late. Get clean and let's get going. I'll load the plane while you shower; I left just enough hot water for you.”

Atma grogged a bit and opened her eyes, immediately turning red at the sight of her naked comrade.

“What are you blushing for? It ain't nothing you haven't seen. Get going, would you?” Ymir huffed as she tossed the towel at her friend for her to use next. “I wanna get this shit done and go home.”

The shower felt just as good to Atma, sympathizing with Ymir's words. Home and her girl sounded good about now. The hot water helped clear her brain for a day of flying, hopping out and getting dressed and equipped, seeing Ymir at a table with some food laid out for them to eat quick as she bagged the fish and a few other things for the trip. The papers were there, ready to be sealed up and taken with them. The two finalized everything and checked their weapons and supplies one last time while filling up on everything they could, leaving behind a thank you note to Atma's father along with more than enough money to compensate for what they took and used.

Inside the plane was two helmets, two sets of goggles, and a couple of scarves and keffiyeh. The two immediately donned them and Ymir got into the back seat with the supplies, snugging her and them in tight as Atma got into the pilot's seat and checked everything.

“Okay, ready for takeoff? Next stop is Okinawa. Estimated time of arrival is about a day. Hold on to your asses because this is going to be a close call, fuel wise. Let's just pray for good weather and our bodies holding out.” said Atma, flicking the engine on and grabbing hold of the yoke and steering it towards the sky, ready to push it along the deck of the ship and out west.

“Ready as I'll ever be! Let 'er go, cap'n! Let's go kick some ass!” shouted Ymir, a bit over excited to be in a reconstructed war plane.

The two began to smile once more as they lifted off into the bright blue, making a quick turn so they were headed the right way, reaching a good, hard and fast pace, letting the wind and scarves whip around in their faces, the engine roaring in an even hum as they made a direct line for a northern Okinawan base.


	5. Chapter 5

Of course a few hours into an otherwise uneventful trip, Ymir had to perk up and complain.

“Yo Atma, I gotta pee.” huffed Ymir, looking around for anything she could possibly piss into and toss overboard. No dice, though.

“Piss in a bottle and chuck it over, you idiot.” replied Atma, trying to focus on keeping the ride steady.

“The only one I got is the rest of the vodka from last night! You don't expect me to waste that and use that as a toilet do you? You're fucking mean.” 

“Uh, yeah, because I ain't giving you any of my piss bottles. I stocked up like a smart girl. Ain't my fault you got no foresight sometimes, oh freckled wonder.”

“Fine. I'll hold it.”

“Let's see how long that lasts...”

Another while went by, by Ymir's estimate it was a torturous couple more hours, fidgeting around so she didn't have to think of her full bladder. Her constant grunting and swearing over it began to grate on Atma's nerves until she shouted back at her.

“Hey you idiot! Sacrifice the fucking vodka and empty yourself or I'll dump YOU in the ocean! Don't think I won't either!”

“You couldn't even try, port slut.” snorted Ymir.

“WATCH ME!” roared Atma as she threw the plane into a quick loop over, knocking Ymir around a bit before returning to a steady path. “Believe me now? DUMP THE MOTHERFUCKING VODKA!”

“FINE! You're fucking insane and when we land I'm gonna beat your ass for this! Fucking sadist.” whimpered Ymir as she opened her vodka and poured it out, flying in droplets to the ocean below and unzipping her pants weakly so she could go. “I fucking hate you!”

“Next time, pee before we go on a long trip, dumbass. I mean, Miss McLarge-Huge.”

“You're getting an extra hit in the tits for making fun of my cool new name, assfucker.”

“I thought I was a port slut.”

“Both.”

The rest of the trip was like this, with insults traded back and forth like greetings, almost making a game out of it. Who could come up with the most ridiculous insult on the way there? Their anger was lost as they wracked their brains for new epithets, laughing too hard to stay angry at each other. Eventually they landed safely in a pocket of an island in Okinawa near some military bases, taking it easy and adjusting to their new fake names as they refueled and found a hangar to sleep in for a bit. Poor Atma had not a bit of sleep the whole trip, while Ymir was safe to sleep in the back.

Ymir snuck off while Atma slept and replenished her beloved booze supply with a few large bottles of the strongest locally made awamori she could afford and carry back along with everything else. One taste of it and she fell madly in love with the stuff; if she didn't have a bride to be back home she would make this her woman several times over. And not a drop to that stupid Atma. Making her waste perfectly good vodka like that.

By the time she got back, Atma was up and changed into a thick winter coat and cap for the Russian winter weather they were soon to encounter. She laid out another set for Ymir to change into, urging her to don it. “It's gonna be snowing and freezing our tits off, oh Miss McLarge-Huge. Get ready.”

“Whatever, Lady Jung. Ugh that still sounds so nerdy for you. We leaving right away?” sighed Ymir.

“Yeah, get whatever we got and I can get us to the train. We should arrive just in time to be picked up, so bundle up our supplies in a tight bag so we can just carry it on with us immediately. I can finish up catching on my sleep there.” replied Atma, hopping back into the pilot's seat. “Get ready for immediate take off, then.”

Ymir adjusted the goggles and hat under her winter cap, making sure everything was tied very snug and secure into place. She gave a thumbs up as she pulled her scarf over her nose and mouth, strapping everything in once more and holding on tight as they pulled off and back up into the blue skies high above the puffy clouds below. Thankfully, this trip would prove to be much shorter and involved no toileting or swearing complications, and instead just pleasant talk of what they expected to do once they got home.

For both of them, it sounded like marriage was the right path. Hang up their guns and swords and just live together with their women happily and safely. Retire. They more than earned it and would have more than enough money to live a comfortable ever after. But only once their names and honor were cleared could they live up to this daydream of theirs, this way as not to tarnish the names of their soon to be wives, either. They even invited each other to be the best man at their respective weddings, if they even had something that big. To be honest, eloping and just locking up in a warm house with good food sounded like a much better wedding than a big party where someone could notice them. Then again, rubbing it in the faces of their enemies sounded like a nice thing to do as well.

Only time would tell.

Before they knew it, they were on the edge of the Russian border, landing as close to the ocean amidst some trees as they could and hoofing it to the nearest station. A while later, their footsteps thankfully covered up the thick Russian snow, they arrived, just within minutes of the next train showing up and getting ready to load everyone in. The two gave them their fake information and tickets, gaining instant access and finding the small cabin that Atma had rented for them. It had one large bed, a shower, a toilet, and enough room to stretch and hide their equipment while they were there. And best of all, a locked door both ways. The kitchen and the bar were nearby, just as they liked it.

Ymir slumped their supply bag in a corner and sat on the bed, legs stretched out as she sighed in relief.

“I can't believe we made it this far without a problem. I've been giving you a lot of shit on this trip, Atma, but once again you've proven to find the easiest way for us. I suppose now all we can do is wait here and rest up for our fight ahead. You said just under two weeks, right?” Ymir pulled out one of her bottles of awamori and kissed it, grinning. “...I was gonna keep this all to myself but I suppose you can have some. I am alive now thanks to you, after all.”

Atma took the bottle and guzzled a few swigs down fast, letting some trickle down her neck in haste.

“To us, then. Now, let's just rest. I'm tired from all this driving around and need a good, long nap. Stay out of trouble, Miss McLarge-Huge.”

“Heh. Good night. Or day. Something. Either way, don't dream horribly, Miss Jung.” said Ymir. “I'll just go get some lunch.”

“Tab's already paid for; eat as much as you want. I'll see you whenever.”

With that, Atma nodded off against a pillow and began to snore almost right away. Ymir locked the door behind her and made her way to the kitchen, curious to fill her stomach on Russian cuisine. She'd never had it before and was excited to make its acquaintance. 

And what she was greeted with was no disappointment either. Ymir took an immediate affinity to the pirozhkis, delighting in the concept of meat and potatoes in a convenient hand-sized pie form. While she tasted a bit of everything, those became her truest culinary love, downing one after the other, a multitude of warm, mushy things stuffed inside each one. She could not care less what was in it; it could be innards for all she cared, for they were warm and filling and probably the most nutrition she'd had in weeks. Once she had her fill, she made her way back to the cabin with a few more in a to-go container to munch on later, taking the awamori from near the sleeping Atma and downing a few chugs to swish with her now packed gut. 

“Praise be to the Motherland. How could anyone think we of all people would bomb such a wonderful culture that would put meat in a pie?” said Ymir to nobody as she stretched, belched, and yawned. The excitement and exhaustion caught up to her and with a long travel time ahead, she at least had plenty of time to sleep. Ymir double checked to make sure all their weapons were hidden and secure and the doors were locked fast before curling up on the free side of the bed next to Atma and passing out about as quick as her friend did. 

Sweet dreams to dumb mercenaries.


	6. Chapter 6

A long, hard nap later and Ymir awoke to see that the stars and moon had risen once more from their little cabin window. How long had she been asleep and what day or time was it? Given they were still on the train, she figured they weren't far along. At least they hadn't reached any major stations yet, or they would have heard someone calling its name by now. She yawned and rubbed her head, feeling the best she had in days. Finally full and rested. Perhaps it was time to go get more food and stretch a bit, trying to get up when she felt something holding her back, in place, hard and tight.

She looked back to see that Atma had latched onto her in her sleep, arms around her waist, snoring and drooling against her back. Should she risk waking her in order to go get her precious meat pies, or should she wait a bit and see if she nodded back off as not to disturb her friend? Her tired brain wracked itself for an answer when she felt Atma stir and mumble a bit.

“Y...Ymir...stay. You're warm.” said Atma, half asleep. Her breath reeked heavily of booze; how much of that awamori had she chugged and why hadn't she slept it off yet?

“Ah, okay. I guess. Go back to sleep now.” said Ymir, almost regretting not having reached for her snack.

“Not tired. Lonely. Let me stay here a while. Like we used to, way back when we were engaged...” grogged Atma.

“....Don't bring that up. We're far from home but we have other women to attend to now. Fucking behave yourself.” Ymir wiggled free a bit anyways, reaching for her box and her bottle, knowing she was going to need more to mentally get through this. She slurped a sip down and was pulled back in, her hands holding her food to her chest desperately. 

“Ymir....Don't talk to me like that. We were in love. Are. Are in love. I can tell it in every stupid little move and word you make. Things haven't changed a bit even if we're getting engaged to others now. As you ate, while I nodded off, I remembered that happiness we used to share and...”

“...Shut up. I miss it too, but, why now? Can't this wait until our mission is over, dumbass?” Ymir groaned as she drank copiously, hoping a sudden tipsiness would erase this from memory.

What she wasn't prepared for was Atma pulling her in and locking lips with hers, swiping half of what she swigged into her mouth for her own drinking purposes. Ymir's body and mind swirled hard, flushing a red under that dark tan skin of hers, immediately remembering how good this used to feel to her. Christa was sweet and wonderful, but Atma had this rawness to her that Christa lacked. Something passionate and rough that got her warrior blood pumping way harder than that goddess she worshiped. Oh, how she missed it, and had longed for it in secret for years since leaving her. To be treated like the animal she is once more after all this time was so fucking tempting, her chest and crotch both heating up right away as the booze hit her. Just one little kiss like this doing her completely in.

“....Fuck. I guess it can't wait. J-Just don't tell Christa or Koshka, okay?” Ymir gave in, returning the kiss and pawing at her partner's body like a beast, her fingers raking down Atma's shoulders with a strong, pinching grip, her fingertips digging sweetly into her flesh as her lips dug in more, hungry and letting out a deep, small groan down Atma's throat, eyes half closed as she nuzzled and headbutted, her other hand's thumb latched onto Atma's pants and tugging at the hem.

The shorter girl just grinned and kissed deeper back, biting on Ymir's lower lip and huffing hot air out at her. They both smelled and tasted of horrible sweat and alcohol but that just got them both ramped up more, the pale girl preferring to stick her hand up Ymir's shirt and caress her tits, squeezing back with fervor as if to bruise and leave her mark on her. Her eyes lowered to half as Ymir's did, signaling a challenge to her with her look, as if to invite her to bruise and scratch her hard in return. 'Make me bleed' was what her expression said, arching up and feeling her cunt dampen as Ymir's hands and nails raked down her back and chest, prying Atma's top off along with her own, Ymir crawling on top and resting tits to tits, biting Atma's lip until she drew blood and lapping it up like a wolf would, immediately trailing spit and blood down Atma's chin and neck until she reached the crook between her neck and shoulder, feasting and biting down on her pale skin hard.

They wrestled like this a bit, their hips dry humping each other through their pants and zippers, starting slow and hard, swirling against each other like dogs as Atma returned the favor and raked her hands down Ymir's shoulders, scratching against her freckles and tracing them as she bruised each one a deep purple. Ymir's mouth found itself happily tracing down Atma's neck and onto her chest, buried between her tits happily and rubbing them with her palms, slurping and biting hungrily with her tongue as she bit between them and placed one of the nipples between her teeth delicately and chewed softly. Atma returned the favor by unzipping Ymir's pants and shoving a hand inside, feeling up how warm and wet her hairy cunt had been getting and shuddering in delight at how tight and slick it felt.

“Mmm, I'd prefer that long tongue of yours, but this will do for now.” sighed Ymir, forgetting what situation she was in, letting herself enjoy this moment no matter how depraved or guilt-ridden she'd feel later.

“I can always arrange a bit of that if you like, provided you return the favor.” grinned Atma as she lay on top of her favorite freckled fuck friend and fingered her folds fantastically. Her thumb graced Ymir's clit and pushed against it hard and warm, dropping her pants just enough to show Ymir her own hot and horny hole, placing it on her leg and humping it as she reached up to kiss and pet at her firm and freckled tits.

Ymir groaned and hissed hard, trying her best to keep quiet, teeth clenched as she began to instinctively fuck Atma's hand, pushing it in deeper, demanding more fingers, wanting to be stuffed as she ran her strong, tanned thigh against that pale slit, huffing hard, quickly finding herself in need of release. Days without even a fap had left her easy and worked up and tense, leading to a quick session as she began to pant and roll into her lover.

She growled and began to push Atma over a bit more. “Shit, fuck you, I'll do whatever you want if you eat my fucking pussy out right here and right no---”

Before Ymir could finish her bold declaration, a slight jerking of the train on the tracks threw them off balance, landing both of them uncomfortably on the train floor. The back of their heads slammed down hard, putting an immediate end to their bedroom romp, unable to focus on orgasms and innuendo when their heads now hurt like sons of bitches.

A sad look was shared between them as they nodded in silence. They knew that finishing now would be all impossible, zipping up their pants in defeat and retrieving their tops as Ymir fished for the magic painkiller known as alcohol and Atma headed to a sink to clean her bite marks off and bandage herself up.

“Maybe that's your gods telling you not to seduce an almost married woman, eh?” snarled Ymir, taking a swig of her booze and passing it on to Atma.

“You'd have refused way more if you didn't want it.” replied Atma as she thankfully took the bottle and swished some in her mouth before swallowing. “Ymir, can I ask you something? Promise not to get mad?”

“Sure, yeah, what?”

“Do you still love me?”

A heavy silence filled the room as Ymir blushed and rubbed her wounded head. Yes. No. Both answers floated in her mind. She wanted to be honest; she always had been with everyone, no matter how harsh it was. And if she could answer, she would give Atma a huge yes and kiss her deeply. But now that the guilt was settling in as she thought of Christa, she took the cautious road for once and sighed.

“...Can I get back to you on that? I promise it'll be before the mission is over. I...need some time to think about...everything.” a look of genuine upset lay in Ymir's face as she said this, letting Atma know that she was deadly serious about this. Little scared Ymir but she would make a very certain face when she was, letting Atma know to back off for now.

“...Take all the time you need. Sorry if I put you on the spot. I'm gonna wash off in the sink for now and bandage up.” said Atma meekly.

“Yeah uh, just take care of yourself. That wasn't a pleasant end, either way.”

“You too.”

With that, Ymir left the cabin for a bit, feeling confused and pained. A few shots of the best vodka Russia had might help her think on this.


	7. Chapter 7

Meanwhile, in Minsk, a woman in a white uniform overdecorated in medals sat in the capitol building's main office in the biggest chair at the most important desk. One name sat on a plaque in front of her, reading Lady Nadezhda. Several armed guards surrounded her as she kicked her feet up and spread them all over the former president's most important papers. She laughed a bit, sounding her best to sound and look evil, as one of her underlings walked in.

“Lady Nadezhda, we have some urgent intel to share with you! I am sure you will be most pleased with what we have found out about the two mercenaries rapidly heading our way!” said a nameless, faceless soldier as he saluted the main desk.

“Make it quick, I'm in a good mood and want to make a war orphan play caddy to me while I golf on a minefield.” snorted Nadezhda.

“T-trust me, faithful leader! This will not disappoint you!” The soldier fumbled for his papers and cleared his throat. “We have word that The Stinking Duo has boarded the Trans-Siberian after staying a day at an unaffiliated cargo ship far off the North Californian coast line! And that's not all; our spy on board indicates she overheard the two engaging in extramarital promiscuous activity and swearing the other to secrecy about it from their women back in America!”

Nadezhda grinned and let the light from the massive window behind her illuminate her visage. “OH HO HO! You have done your duty well! Guards! Get this man a raise and tell him to take the week off; he may have just given us the intel needed to destroy these two!”

The guards around her immediately saluted, gave a hearty cry of confirmation, and gave the lowly soldier a fresh gold medal and showed him to where the good restaurants here were, giving him a voucher to eat for free. The soldier cried tears of joy and declared may long live the new USSR as he marched out proudly.

“Mwahaha, I knew those two dipshits would still carry a flame for each other. It's how these stories always work. Two united in love and wet bedsheets, torn apart by other women without obtaining closure. Naturally the first quiet instance of alone time they got would be one filled with the embers of long-harbored lust. Just wait until word reaches their brides to be back home; guards, send the elite squad out to kidnap them and bring them here. I want them to suffer before I execute them all!”

With that said, she stood up and gave another hearty laugh, a flash of the sunlight glaring and flaring across the rim of her cap as she twirled her cape and pulled out her cane. “This day, this world, all yet will be mine! In the name of the former USSR! Koshka, you will rue yet the day you broke my heart so long ago!”


	8. Chapter 8

It was a long, awkward while later that the Trans-Siberian finally arrived in Moscow, letting Ymir and Atma off, the freckled one holding a huge pack of priozhki to go against her grey-furred jacket. The two barely spoke and interacted since the hot, heavy incident on the first night, choosing to remain distant and dumb. Their cheeks would flare up a bright red if either of them looked at the other for more than a second, but still, work beckoned, and soon the two found they had to set that petty high school shit aside if they wanted to finish this and go home. Especially since Russian military was thick in this area; guards were everywhere and civilian movement severely restricted.

“Well, shit, I didn't think it'd be this bad already.” growled Ymir, taking out a precious meat pie and scarfing it down fast.

“It's been almost three weeks since this began; nearing a month. Of course Russia would be pissed, they were one of Belarus' greatest allies before this shit started. To see your little sister betray you this hard has to be a huge blow to them. The border and capital would be thick with them.” replied Atma as she ducked part of her face into her cap and tried to pass by inconspicuously. 

“So you know what that means, right?”

“Steal a military jeep, and yes, you can be the gunner.”

Ymir grinned and tried her hardest not to jump up, fist in the air, cheering. Her favorite thing was to use those cars and tanks with the big machine guns attached because it made her both feel invincible and like she had a huge dick. A dick that killed people. The two snuck around until they found a jeep ripe for the taking, the guards fucking off nearby on break. This would easily be the easiest part of their mission yet; just sneak up and throw them down, steal their weapons and keys, and zoom off at full speed further southwest.

Which is immediately what they did, inviting themselves to a set of hard helmets, knives, guns, rations, canteens, and a set of jeep keys, letting the two guards sleep tight at the train station as they revved up their machine and threw Atma in the driver's seat and Ymir at the back near the machine gun. There were no seatbelts, just as they preferred, and they began to go off at full speed through snow and rock, ploughing their way through the icy Russian lands, putting their goggles from the plane back on over their eyes, scarves and bandannas over their mouths as they began to sing once more like when they were in the car back home heading to the docks.

Their voice attracted many an invading Belarus soldier waving the flag of Nadezhda and Russian troops chasing after their stolen vehicle both, Atma trying her best to outmaneuver their gun fire and mow them down, giving Ymir permission to kneecap any stragglers, both trying their best not to go for fatal blows. The majority of the bullets from the jeep struck near the feet of their pursuers, scaring them off enough to get far ahead that neither their bodies nor bullets could give chase at this point, grabbing one of the Belarus troops' flags in the process.

“Yo Ymir, this doesn't look like the crest of Belarus; I've never recognized this piece of shit icon before in my life. It's ugly as sin. Something's fucked up in the ex-Soviet states, I just know it. It's fucking feudalism all over again.” growled Atma as she made her way faster and faster to the border, getting ready to just plow through, shouting at the guards to dive out of the way.

“I wouldn't fucking doubt it if something's gone that amiss there by now. Who else would think to fucking frame us? Do you know anyone?” replied Ymir, reloading the gun with a few new reams of bullets.

“Not a clue, I'm afraid. Also, duck.”

Ymir immediately complied and pulled her head in, watching as they barely passed through the border blockade, ramming and snapping through a multitude of toll barriers, a few stubborn soldiers finding themselves regretting not escaping and diving out at the last second, drawing their pistols and firing at them. Their efforts remained futile as none of the bullets even dented the side of the Russian steel jeep, a clear, long road full of warrior Belrus and Russian soldiers now between them as they went from one country to the next.

After a minute of making sure the vehicle was steady, Atma stood up in her seat and drew a long blade she had been hiding across the back of her hips for most of this trip, grasping it in two hands along her right side, tip down and blade curved forward. Her boot pressed against the wheel as she kept it jamming forward at full speed, scarf flapping in the wind as she let the sunlight reflect both off of her blade and the snow, hoping the blind the masses on either side of them lest they get cut down.

“Sunrise blade Amaterasu, bring dawn in our darkest hour!” she said proudly as she swung her arms in a few light movements, watching as dozens of soldiers on both sides fell to the side, cut and bleeding, but their innards intact. She lifted her blade up by her ear and snorted.

“Oh goddammit, Jung, you fucking nerd, you can use a sword without sounding like a stupid movie you know.” Ymir sighed, keeping her gun focused on the wreckage behind them.

“Bah, I am conserving you bullets, am I not? Let me pick the music and tune us in the sounds of our enemy's screams as we barrel our way directly to Minsk!” Atma said proudly, keeping her eye square on the road as her boot shifted and steered the vehicle. “Believe in me, Miss McLarge-Huge.”

“Shut the fuck up, port slut.”

“You first, frigid asshole.”

After a bit of navigating a land heavy with gunpowder and body parts strewn black and red through the snow, a certain building top came into the horizon, making the two mercenaries' hearts beat faster and faster. Destiny await there, no matter what form it took. The two looked on, their minds suddenly sharpened into a seriousness, the petty bickering between them now set aside as their blade and gun glittered in the slowly graying sun. Clouds began to dot the sky, ready to dump a new layer of cold, deadly frost on everyone. Mother Russia and Belarus both cared not whom lived or invaded; all gave and caved to that cold eventually. Unless you're a pair of hot blooded morons out to save their egos and futures.

“We'll be there soon. Steel yourself, Ymir.” Atma's tone turned grim and sharp.

“Yeah, same to you. We ain't fucking failing this one.” Ymir replied with equal earnesty.

“For us. And for those back home.”

“We will shove a boot of justice so far up their ass they'll taste it.”

“By my blade...”

“....And by my gun.”

Suddenly the two shouted the same cry at once, pointing at the heavens above as their vehicle crashed into the side of the capital building, rolling out of it and facing Lady Nadezhda head on.

“SHALL OUR FREEDOM RING AGAIN!”


	9. Chapter 9

The dust settled, the jeep flying out the nearest window and crashing, ending its short lived life of usefulness as the coolest means of transportation this side of the USSR. Rest in peace, jeep. As for Lady Nadezhda, all she could do was laugh uncontrollably at their display. Their pride and hotblooded actions looked just utterly ridiculous to her; were all Americans this easy to rile up and get into spewing idiotic and jingoistic spiel? She sure hoped so, because that would mean her dream of a reformed USSR would be able to conquer North America with nay more than a butter knife.

“Oh good, it's The Stinking Duo!” Nadezhda spoke up in a thick Russian accent. “I knew you'd be arriving soon; you two fools would bolt here the second I leaked your info to your precious country's media saying you started this in an act of treason as an easy out of your line of work. It seems to have done its job well, you're here, I'm here, everyone's here. Why don't we just take care of you and publicly execute you so I can charm those filthy Americans into thinking I would foolishly ally with them? It'd be a good cover.”

“Jesus fucking shit, she talks a lot.” groaned Atma. “Of course our end boss is Little Miss Borscht and her delusions of world conquest. It's not a final battle unless they're dramatic and egotistical.”

Ymir began to crack up, unable to take this woman serious at all. “Holy fuck, I think we've faced tougher opponents at shitty dive bars in the East Bay. At least they only talk maybe half as much.”

“Oh, so you're not taking me seriously, are you? I thought as much. Besides, you two should tread more carefully, anyways. You wouldn't want to overwork yourselves after taking that nasty fall in the cabin on the Trans-Siberian, would you?” the Lady grinned wide, eyes looking sharp and mean.

“...Who told you that?” Ymir stopped laughing and pulled out a gun from beneath her coat, aiming it right at Nadezhda's head and snarling. Atma shut up fast, as well, drawing her blade back out.

“I have intel all over Russia and East Europe and international waters. Why wouldn't I? I know every move you've made since your boat showed up on radar off the Californian coast west from, ahh what is this town's name, Bodega I believe?”

“How much do you know?” snarled Atma.

“Enough to doom your current romantic relationships, your lovers' personal lives, and your career until you either flee in exile or let me just shoot you and put you out of your misery like the filthy American capitalist dogs you are!” the Lady laughed.

“Er, well, I'm a socialist, so...” Atma began but soon found herself interrupted by the villainess' need to overtalk and overstay her welcome.

“Yeah, let's just shut her up here and burn the evidence she has. Before she does anything stupider with it than she already has. Like, you know, show it to Christa. Or Koshka.” Ymir was very eager to burn some ass at this point. “Fucking invasion of our privacy is what this bullshit is.”

“Now now, let's see what happens when I turn on this monitor here. This is the camera in the basement of this building.” the lady turned a screen to them and turned it on, a display slowly coming into view, scanlines and digital snow bouncing all over as the lens focused.

A display in greens and blacks came on of Koshka and Christa ties to chairs, blindfolded, looking sad and exhausted, kicking around and demanding to be freed. Ymir and Atma immediately fell silent and weak, eyes going wide in surprise, their minds and bodies freezing in place as their lovers' helpless pleas echoed in their ears, every syllable tormenting them more than the last.

“W-what?? You fucking monster! Release them NOW or I won't fucking stop spraying lead into every inch of you, your guards, and this building until I collapse from exhaustion! They have nothing to do with this!” Ymir screamed, her voice growing raspy from having to hold back tears.

“Oh, tell me how you really feel, why don't you? How do you think I feel, though? Your companion, Atma, stole the woman I loved after you dumped her for that Christa girl, setting back my plans for invasion by at least a few years! You didn't think I wouldn't come back and avenge that? You two adulterers can fuck off, get your heads lopped off, and I'll take your wives for myself to join me in my own world order! Nothing can stop me now!” the Lady declared, snapping her fingers and summoning a dozen guards into the room.

“What do you want from us, bitch?” snarled Atma, drawing her sword nervously and shaking a bit. “I'm gonna fucking free them and end your invasive stupid ass right here! This whole fucking situation went from absurd to devious far too fast; someone like you needs to be taken down before your influence spreads!”

“Give up.” said the Lady. “Just give up. The more you fight, the more soldiers I'll send down to the basement, and who knows what will happen to the women then. Surrender and let me lock you in a dusty supply cabinet until your public execution at dawn and I'll promise to take good care of them in your stead. Face it, you lost, your bravado left you blindsided. And now you American dogs will pay the ultimate price!”

Before the two mercenaries had time to react, guards had already grabbed hold of their wrists and were beginning to drag them away. Not even a chance to stop this all; Lady Nadezhda was truly nefarious. Thry attempted to fight and kick and bite their way to freedom, but an overwhelming of soldiers stopped them. Their coats and weapons were stripped and they were left in nothing more than tanktops, camo pants, and scruffy boots as they were hauled off to meet their imprisoned fate.

“But I'm not even American, I was born in the Mediter---” Ymir began before she stopped herself. “Shit, that doesn't even matter now, fuck fuck fuck...”

The two were thusly dumped into the nearest and most unused supply cabinet and locked it up tight, making sure nothing inside could be used to aid them in escape. Despite the door being padded and locked with everything they could find, and the two knowing full well how securely shut it was, they immediately began kicking against it and ramming their shoulders against the joints of the lock, doing only damage to themselves in a fit of sorrow and rage more than they were doing to the structural work of the door. Eventually, their bodies were bruised and bloody, tired and their minds gone, settling into the corners of the room to sulk in quiet as not even tears would form in their eyes now. They were completely exhausted and not even left with anything to off themselves with if needed, saving them the indignity of an internationally televised execution. Light from a few dim bulbs hung overhand, out of reach, as it flickered and sparked now and again down on them, a dark reminder that their own light was about to be snuffed out.


	10. Chapter 10

“Ymir, I'm sorry I rushed us into this.” whispered Atma.

“Wasn't your fucking fault our enemy is a huge cunt, now is it? I don't want to hear how stupidly and needlessly sorry you are about that. Just....we'll think of something and get them out of here and we'll all go home together and retire and stay safe, okay?” replied Ymir, a jittery nervousness tainting her voice.

“Ymir, are you okay? You sound scared, that's not like you...”

“Y-Yeah I am. A bit. Who wouldn't be? But, fuck, if now is the only time I got left to say this...”

Ymir stood up and pulled Atma in close to her chest. Her body was hot and sweaty, a slight claminess to her, her nerves and brain both completely shot as she stood there hugging her friend in complete silence, letting the awkwardness linger a bit, just glad to have someone to hug and hold right now. It gave her hope.

“I'll answer your stupid fucking question from back on the train. Yes, I do still love you. I always have fucking loved you, you idiot, and I'm surprised you didn't notice sooner. I was a dumbass and let you go, but if we can get out of here, we can take the girls and go home and get married. All of us. Together. The whole four married to one another and safe and happy and never again will we ever do something so fucking stupid as to endanger us all like this ever again. Only honesty about this from here on, okay?” Ymir blushed as she spat out her confession, stroking Atma's hair and trying not to cry, having had to bottle all that up for years now.

Atma blushed back in equal fervor, hugging back tight and smacking Ymir in the back of the head.  
“That's for not telling me sooner, asshole. There's your honesty you wanted. Now, I love you too and you probably knew that as well, but we can save semantics for later. Let's get out of here and go home together; we're not out of this fight yet. But first, let's wait for the guards to knock off for the night.”

Ymir tried to smile, feeling somewhat elated. You know, if it weren't for the fact she had just been sentenced to die soon, she would be feeling pretty fucking awesome, but that part weighed on her a but, and understandably so. “Y-yeah, probably easier to sneak out then.”

“Well, that and, ahh, uhh...well, I owe you a favor...don't I?” Atma stuttered a bit as she placed a nervous kiss on Ymir's sweet tanned lips. “I never got to finish what we started in that cabin a couple weeks ago.”

The freckled idiot turned a neon red as she returned the kiss and tensed up almost by instinct. “A-Are you sure? Here? Now?”

“Look, if we fuck up and die, then I ain't dying without fulfilling my promise. So shut up and fuck me, if only for the last time, but here's to hoping there's more to it than this in the future.” retorted Atma as she shoved a hand down Ymir's pants and groped around a bit.

“I...can't refute that. May as well, so why not come and fucking get a freckle ride to hell, you filthy convict?” Ymir immediately got into the spirit of things, her usual repertoire of innuendo as horrible as it mostly was.

“Shut it with your horrible one liners. The only time I want you making any noise is when my tongue is buried deep in you. You better make enough noise to piss off everyone; if we're going down, I'm going down on you in a blaze of glory.” grinned Atma as she pulled down Ymir's pants and started thumbing around her slit again, aggressively pressing the rest of her body against her comrade's and kissing her dark tanned neck, her teeth hungrily pressing against her skin and nibbling.

“God fucking dammit, Atma. That bitch that imprisoned us got one thing right; you are a dog. Can't ever take it easy or slow, but I always liked that about you...” Ymir whispered, her hand running down Atma's top and stripping it off so she could have easier access to her pale tits. She spread her legs and knees a bit, allowing her lover easier access, her fingertips and nails digging deep into Atma's shoulderblades and the top of her chest, clawing and pawing stronger than she did even on the train, years of tension finally able to release as they felt the freedom of confessing once more wash over them completely. “Go ahead and feast; I've longed for that fucking stupid long tongue of yours for years, you have no idea...”

“Gladly, my favorite freckled wonder...” Atma grinned as she lowered her mouth ever slowly down Ymir's front, lifting her top up so she could trace her tanned lover's bare tits and abs in loving, lingering kisses, working her up nice and good as she massaged her hips and ass, teasing the spot between her thighs and slit, nuzzling her face into her curled pubes and breathing in the scent of her lover in deep, closing her eyes and giving in as her tongue stuck itself out and took a few tastes of Ymir's sweet, warm clit and hole, that once-familiar taste returning to her mind and mouth, lingering there with sweet kisses and nibbles, face flushed red as her own cunt began to swell in her pants.

“Shit!” growled Ymir nice and loud, trying her best to make all the noise she was asked to, placing her hand on the back of Atma's head roughly, bunching some of her hair between her fingers and pushing her in deeper, hips pressing forward against that hungry mouth of hers, sweating a bit and panting, breaths sharp and quick as she grew hotter and tighter, her insides swelling up and heating her all over, clattering another hand behind her on a shelf to keep her balance, making sure each clang from it echoed down the halls of the building loudly and proudly. “Fucking hell, Atma, you beast. You remembered all my fucking weak points, you stupid fucking devil. I knew you cared.”

A few groans of approval echoed from Atma's mouth against Ymir's clit, vibrating hard against her as she pressed her lips to it and suckled hard and slow, her tongue flicking up and deep inside her hole, every single wet, sticky droplet of juices trickling down her throat and lips, embracing her around her waist and massaging her ass as she feasted, going in deeper and faster, her licks becoming heavier and larger, her mouth enveloping around every inch of her clit and entrance, pushing back against her heaving hips and growling hungrily as she dropped her own pants, giving Ymir an eyeful of a very soaked pair of boxers.

“Atma, Atma, goddammit, eat me faster, you dumb dog...” shouted Ymir over and over, losing herself in this completely. Mere minutes passed before Ymir felt herself edging far too close far too soon, moaning more frantically and making sure her noises would be heard by all the country, rearing her head and neck back suddenly as her eyes shot wide, drooling a bit as she bit her lip and choked back the urge to speak her lover's name again as she felt her hole gush forth and cum hard and quick all over Atma's face, opting instead to moan and scream in joy as all the hot tension left her freckled body and poured lovingly forth down Atma's lips, trickling out juices and a small bit of thick girl cum.

After making sure she was fully drained, Atma sat back and looked up at Ymir with a wet smile. “How many years have you been holding that load back?”

“S-shut up!” stuttered Ymir as she began to regain her senses. “You're one to talk with how visibly soaked your fucking underwear is right now, anyways. And tch, since you kept your word, I'll keep mine. I said I'd do anything you wanted but you needn't say a word, your body is telling me everything it wants without speaking. Now why don't you come sit on my face and claim that freckle ride to hell I offered?” 

Ymir grinned and snorted, laying down on the hard floor below and pulling Atma in down next to her, helping her out of her clothing and giving her a deep, slow kiss, slurping her own juices hungrily off her lips and huffing a bit, slipping one of her hands down to Atma's ass and the other one down to her own slit to jerk her clit off as she talked and teased, still hard and hot enough to cum again if she wanted to. “I don't taste half bad, no wonder you ate your meal up so fast. Though all that left me hungry too, you know...”

She quickly slipped under Atma and propped her up just above her mouth, feeling her sticky slit and hot clit rubbing up against her lips and nose, grinning as she savored that musky scent and taste invading her senses, giving all her hot bits a deep kiss, reaching a hand up to paw at her pale tits as she coated her lips in those juices she longed for again all these years later. Her fingers slipped insider herself easy as she slicked hard against her own tanned clit and thumbed it, hoping to get herself off in a way strong enough to quake her body and rock her into her lover's slit, her body already bucking and arching up hard as her tongue hungrily slipped out and up, teasing that pink clit on top of her with her tongue tip, flicking at it like a serpent as she groaned in approval, only coming up once to speak before returning to her duty. “Fuck, you still taste so dirty, just the way I love it, I'm gonna enjoy this like we used to.”

Atma bucked up and down hard on Ymir's thick, slick, hungry tongue, moaning as she latched onto the shelves and clattered them, exaggerating the clanging noises but every bit of her moans and calling Ymir's name very very real, her innards tensing up hard as her whole body went red and flush, sweating and feeling it roll down her body as Ymir rolled her nipples hard between her fingers, snorting and nibbling against her clit and slit gently and lovingly, kissing it all again as she shook from her own fingering, using it to fuel her further as she slurped the whole of her tongue against her clit and slit back and forth, not quite penetrating yet, hoping to hold out until the last possible second before treating her to that and making her cum down her lips and neck.

“Ymir, oh Ymir, just enter me already, please, end my peaking and make me flow...Shit shit...” growled Atma as her nipples hardened at Ymir's teasing touches. Ymir quickly got what she desired, finding Atma as easily wound up and having held back her tensions and desires as well, feeling her own girl juices and cum splatter against her hand as she snorted and growled in a second orgasm, making her body and face both buck and force her tongue up Atma's hole, triggering the pale girl's own orgasm and feeling a sudden spray of sticky, clear juices and drops of thick, pasty girl cum smear on her lips and down her freckled chin and neck, a moan of deep, throbbing orgasm trailing after the noises Ymir left escaping Atma's lips.

The two slumped and began to wind down as their growls and moans went from spectacularly noisy back down to quiet again, their throats and mouths both worn out in the best of ways. They cuddled in close and pet at each others' backs and hair, giving the other sweet, small kisses all over the face and neck, pecking lovingly as their bodies panted and slowly regained their energy. 

“Thanks for the ride, asshole.” grinned Atma.

“Fuck, no, thank you, ma'am. I feel liberated and like my old self again.” replied Ymir, looking deliriously happy. “But what's say we save the celebrating for later and get ourselves dressed and find a way out of here? I wanna get out of this dump with both of the women I love, after all. And I know you probably do, too.”

“Well, someone's charged up. I had no idea my tongue could have that effect on girls.” laughed Atma, kissing Ymir on the nose and getting up, throwing her clothes back on with a renewed sense of meaning and determination.

“You're goddamn right it does, dog.” Ymir did the same, throwing her clothes back on, not caring if either of them reeked of hot vagina, and aimed her boot at the center of the door. “Yo, on the count of three, kick this shit as hard as you can at the same time I do and go find leader bitch and shove her diplomacy up her smug ass.”

“You got it! Let's get this show on the road!” Atma put her boot up next to Ymir's and inched back slowly until they were ready.

“One...Two...Three!”

With that, their feet shoved as hard as they could through the door and the locks, sending bits of metal spraying into the hall, a welcoming glow from the hallway lights welcoming them back into the free world, the doors falling over and knocking out the guards that had been watching them, giving them a convenient source of free weaponry.

And off they took back to the presidential room.


	11. Chapter 11

Turning back the clock a small bit, Lady Nadezhda sat in her chair at her gigantic desk, having turned on a big screen and grinned as she turned into the middle of the room. Koshka and Christa stood there, Koshka in an angry fighting stance and Christa armed with nay more but a fork with shining and sharp tines, found deep in the basement with a load of army supplies. Guards scattered the floor from the basement to this room, unconscious, dead, or bleeding and screaming for mercy or their mothers. Did they really expect the ladies of an exceptional mercenary duo to get in a relationship with them and not be taught only the most brutal and amazing ways of self-defense and escape?

“And how did you two little maidens escape my cold, damp dungeon from hell?” asked the Lady, sounding amused. “I don't remember you being this effective of a fighter, Koshka. A dirty one, yes, but you've grown a lot since our last encounter.”

“Koshka told me to tell you she doesn't give 'a basketful of fucks' what you think of her. She may be deaf, but she knows anything you say is lies.” said Christa, a look of fiery determination in her angry eyes. “Besides, you think a guard could resist harming a cute little lady like me? Back where I'm from, my troupe worshiped me as some kind of twisted goddess figure. And now you're seeing why; just a small smile and a tear falling down my face and they were ready to hand over the keys. Joke's on them, though, we were just doing what was required to get us out. You really didn't think this through, did you? Not a single one of us isn't ready to fight and bring you down for all the problems you suddenly caused the world. And our lives.”

“You speak big words, little miss goddess. Though my men may be beaten, we are far from defeated. Now, look upon this screen and look upon the filthy, adulterous acts your mercenary lovers are committing right now, wasting time upon such lewd acts instead of using their time to escape and save you!” Nadezhda grinned an amazingly evil smile as she clicked a button and put a screen on to the storage cabinet Ymir and Atma had been locked up in. What they hadn't noticed as that there was a camera hidden in the corner, recording their every sexy move. They were right in the middle of transitioning between Atma's feasting and Ymir's hunger, every little moan and teasing taunt caught on full audio, volume turned up to max.

Christa and Koshka froze in place as they stared with wide, embarrassed eyes at the screen. How could this be real? They could only come to one conclusion in their confusion, looking at each other, shaking a bit and tearing up, Christa sniffling as they signed to each other and nodded.

“How's that for justice, little maidens? Your women only lusted after each other in the end; I'll have you know they already did it one more time before this on this venture, as well. How are you feeling? Disgusted? Betrayed? Of course, what a silly question.” Nadezhda droned on and on, looking rather proud of herself.

“Just one question...Why are you doing this to us?” asked Christa, choking back her shaking voice.

“A simple answer, my dear. Koshka there left me with a broken heart after she heard I was dreaming of reforming the USSR through force. She called me a violent fool and set my work back by years. Ever since then, I've dreamed of breaking her heart in return and forcing her to take me back so we can rule all of Europe together once more as the beautiful communist bastards we once were!” the Lady laughed, standing up and putting her hands on her hips as light shined off her from the window behind.

“So...you manipulated all of this? Just so you could start a stupid war over something nobody else wants?” Christa's voice grew angrier. 

Koshka took Christa aside and signed a few quick, short messages to her before allowing her to continue to speak. The young goddess' eyes lit up; there was hope yet in the information Koshka traded to her. She had no idea what her ex was saying, but she knew it was stupid. After confirming it was indeed just ego-feeding drivel, she gave Christa the go ahead to end this.

“Just one last question then. Was what they were doing consensual?” Christa huffed.

A voice shout out from the hall nearby as footsteps trailed the words, echoing louder and louder as they inched towards the presidential room. 

“Of course it was fucking consensual! What kind of dogs do you take us for, untrained ones? Only this idiot dictator wishes we were such filthy beasts!”

It was Atma. She burst into the room, holding a massive captain's sabee she plucked off the uniform of one of the higher ranking goons around here, Ymir following right after and sighing in disgust, wielding a pair of pistols with a rifle on her back.

“I would've invited you in for a threesome if I could have, Christa, you know that. But this bitch in white here's making it impossible for us to get a decent meal or get decently laid around here. What an invasive asshole.” growled Ymir, sounding increasingly dissatisfied with the Lady.

“...How did YOU TWO escape as well?” Nadezhda's voice growled loud and angry.

“If you had kept an eye on your own camera feed, you would have seen that they had escaped while you were rambling and feeding your own ego.” snorted Christa. Koshka just sort of snickered as she pointed to a very empty cabinet being shown on screen.

“You're not very good at this villainess thing, idiot.” sighed Atma. “I dunno what you were going on about adultery and such for; Koshka and I were never monogamous. I'm pretty sure everyone else here was long aware of the tension between the four of us anyways; we're not fucking morons.”

“Also, for the record, it sounds like you got your ass dumped for a reason. You sound like a scorned teen boy. Give it a rest.” Ymir just aimed a gun at the desk and sighed. “So can we shoot her and turn her in now or what?”

Koshka shook her head and pointed to Christa, then turning to her and opening a small box she had taken off one of the soldiers. Inside was packed to the brim with warm meatballs and sauce made by the poor soldier's old grandmother and smelled just like home, all of it made with love. Christa oohed and grinned, using her giant military fork to pick up a couple of them on her tines and began to march towards the desk slowly.

“Wait. What are you doing?” asked the Lady, shaking and stuttering, visibly sweating and flush.

“....Er, yeah, what's going on here?” Ymir lowered her gun, looking around confused.

“I have no idea but I'm going to trust them on this. They usually know something we don't anyways. Just watch.” Atma looked on curiously, sheathing her saber and crossing her arms.

Christa crawled her way up the desk and pushed the fork in Nadezhda's face. Her look became one of incredible focus and fury, swirling up inside of her as the Lady sank back, paralyzed in fear.

“EAT YOUR MEATBALL!” shouted Christa as she forcefully shoved the fork in the Lady's mouth with the force of a mountain range. She pushed that stupid general's cap down hard and kept her mouth shut until she had no choice but to swallow that meaty goodness, dripping in a savory red sauce, watching as she choked it down and immediately looked sickly green. There were no guards left to save her, all lay dead or crying, and her empire crumbled under her as her eyesight began to fade, her mind and words growing hazy and body going limp. This was the ungraceful end of Lady Nadezhda at the hands of a young housewife. 

Inexplicably, she didn't puke, but instead bloated and popped until nothing was left of her but a pile of confetti spraying everywhere. Not a drop of gore or bone was in her, just an endless supply of party decorations it seemed. Christa then turned around, pressed her skirt out, and spoke.

“Koshka told me she was a rabid vegetarian.” she said very matter of fact-ly.

“So she just fucking explodes? That's the climax? Man, what the hell ever, she's dead, let's expose her scam and clear our names and go home.” Atma groaned in confusion. It'd been a long month and she was willing to buy this explanation as much as any other. “But first things first. Hey, Koshka. Ymir. Christa. You all wanna get married and live quietly together for the rest of forever? I think this is enough adventure for me for quite some time, if not the rest of my life.”

Ymir blushed a bit and tried to grin, coming out half goofy. “Er, yeah, we were uh, planning on uh, just becoming this little polyblob to hug and protect each other in and shit. Wanna join us?”

Koshka and Christa signed a bit and nodded to each other.

“Koshka says she knew this was coming and wondering what took you guys so long to figure out it'd all work better this way. I agree, actually. We can save on meatball costs this way, too.” Christa said, just sighing in relief as the four pooled in for a massive, long, warm group hug.

Atma slipped away for a second and grabbed a sealed envelope on Nadezhda's desk. Inside were all the forged documents used to place the blame on them for this and all her plans for the war and conquest, all signed in her name. She took it and picked up the Lady's cap, left behind in her explosion, and put the cap on her own head. This would be enough proof to clear their names and leave them to be heroes instead.

At once, they all said and shared a round of “I love you” and “I love you too” and embraced each other hand in hand, walking out proudly through the door back towards home and towards their eternal freedom.

It was finally over.


	12. Chapter 12

A week had passed since the incident in Belarus came to an end.

Ymir, Atma, Christa, and Koshka sat at home. The news had finally gotten word from the government about the whole story and were finally reporting on their mistakes and retracting their initial suspicions of Atma and Ymir as the culprits. An apology was issued by all news outlets, save Fox News, who had originally put the report out. But they were always like that, suspicious until the end. Fair and balanced, indeed.

They had been awarded a handsome sum of money to retire with for preventing the rise of the USSR and the start of what may have been World War III. Upon turning in their retirement slips, they put away their guns and swords in a safe, just in case the future required them needing their power once more, but hoping they rest forever more.

They eloped to the clerk's office and obtained a marriage license between them all the same day, going out to eat and promptly laying down at home and crashing in a cuddle pile. It was still cold out, but finally one cold they could enjoy together, without wondering if they would ever see each other again. As wives, and wives of wives, they would live happily ever after, ever alert just in case the ghost of Lady Nadezhda ever returned to wreck havoc upon the world.

At least there would always be meatballs cooking on the stove.

You know.

Just in case.

And so endeth the tale of the mercenaries, now, and hopefully for the rest of their days.

Sleep well, soldiers.


End file.
